


the feelings dog

by thisissirius



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2014 Winter Olympics, First Kiss, M/M, Patrick adopts a Sochi stray, Patrick has a feelings dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 08:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1218700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick gets a feelings dog in Sochi. It leads to actual feelings with Jonny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the feelings dog

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written mostly because Tara kept telling me I should write Kaner with a puppy, and then Mar joined in about Kaner adopting a Sochi stray. Therefore, this fic. 
> 
> It's unbeta-d, probably terrible, and deserves to be much longer. 
> 
> Still, I've written fic! Yay!

Patrick doesn’t adopt the puppy because he lost the game. 

At least, that’s what he tells his mom when she asks. She takes one look at the little puppy and raises her eyebrows. Patrick’s never been a big dog person - he’s never had occasion to be a big dog person - but the puppy looks a little bit like a wolf. 

“You’re sure that’s a stray dog and not a killer wolf, right?” Jessica asks. She’s got her phone in one hand, but she’s staring at the dog dubiously. 

Patrick nestles the puppy closer to his chest in protest. “She’s not a wolf!”

He’s not entirely sure, then again he’s not entirely sure the dog is a she, either. Still. 

“Honey,” his mom says, giving him a sympathetic look that is equal parts humouring and concern. “Are you sure this isn’t just a feelings dog?”

“A _feelings dog_?” It’s something he can imagine Jonny saying, but not his awesome mom, who always knows what he needs. Except, apparently, _now._ “She’s not a feelings dog. She is perfect and I am taking her home, the end.”

\--- 

It would be the end, but for the red tape.

It’s a headache to get a stray dog back to the US, apparently, and Patrick’s still got a game to play, and potentially a medal ceremony to attend. He bribes Jessica to look up what he needs to do to get the dog back home, and his mom offers to take her to a vets somewhere in the city to make sure she’s well enough to fly home. 

Patrick goes to practice and does everything he’s supposed to in preparation of the game, and absolutely does not think about Jonny, preparing for his gold medal game. Overcome with anger and shame at losing out on getting a chance of gold, Patrick bangs his way back into the room, ignoring Callahan’s raised eyebrows. Patrick’s got things to do. He has three texts on his phone; one from his mom and two from Jonny. He deletes Jonny’s messages - he doesn’t care what he has to say right now - and instead looks at the text from his mom. 

It’s the address of the vets and just a _get here now_ , which isn’t good news. Patrick’s out of the room as fast as he entered, once again ignoring Callahan’s shout after him, and jogging down the corridor towards the elevator. He thumbs in his mom’s number and hopes she picks up. Are you allowed to answer your phone in the vets? 

His mom picks up the phone and he barrels over her, “hey honey,” and asks about the dog. “Slow down, Patrick. She’s a little underweight and dehydrated, and they want to keep her in for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Patrick asks. 

He can’t stick around for too long. When he’s done with Sochi, he has to get back to Chicago and start the long haul towards the playoffs. 

“A couple of days at most. Just until they’re sure she’s out of the woods.”

“She is a she?” Patrick says. He’s distracted by the phonecall and doesn’t realise the elevator’s paused at a different floor until the doors are opening. Jonny’s standing on the other side, looking surprised, sympathetic, and awkward in quick succession. “Uh, mom, I gotta go.” 

He hangs up the phone and stares at Jonny. 

“Hey.” Jonny steps into the elevator, brushing up against Patrick despite the fact that there’s plenty of room. “You going out?”

Patrick opens his mouth to tell Jonny about the dog and then clamps it shut. He’s not altogether sure why he chooses not to, but he just shrugs. “Meeting mom and Jessica for lunch.”

Jonny searches his face, and they’ve known each other long enough now that he can probably tell it’s a lie, but he doesn’t call Patrick on it. “Cool.”

It’s awkward and stupid and Patrick simultaneously hates and loves the Olympics. It’s pretty fucking awesome to get to play for your country, but he hates the fact that he gets mad at his teammates for being great players. It makes him feel like a fucking tool, but he’s not like Jonny. Jonny would drown his sorrows for not being good enough, but at least he wouldn’t resent his teammates for winning. 

“Patrick,” Jonny says, nudging his elbow. “You played good.”

“Don’t,” Patrick snaps, knowing he’s being a dick but not being able to help it. “It’s not - you gotta win, though, right?”

Jonny nods, fierce and sure. “We will.”

Patrick wants to laugh. If there was anyone that could will their team to victory on hard work alone, it would be Jonny. “I know.”

The awkwardness is gone, but Patrick doesn’t know what else to say. Thankfully the elevator reaches the ground floor, and he can hurry out and away from Jonny with a promise to text him later. It reminds him that he still hasn’t looked at Jonny’s text messages, but Jess is waiting in the lobby - apparently his mom called her too - and he’s preoccupied with hailing a cab.

\--- 

The vet, a woman in her late thirties and glasses, smiles at Patrick when he asks after his dog. He can’t stop thinking about her as his, and even if he has to fly back to Chicago and leave his mom and Jess to handle actually getting her home, he’ll grovel and beg. She’s coming home with him and that’s the end of it.

It actually is, thankfully, because the vet is certain she’ll be fine, with her vaccinations and a little rest. He gets a long list of ways to look after when she’s back in America, including taking her to a vets there, as well as a warning that it’s going to cost a lot of money. At least he’s pretty sure that’s what he’s reading. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “I’ll pay whatever to get her back home.”

“She is a miracle, no?” The vet smiles again, turning away to take care of the paperwork. 

Patrick grins, scratching under his girl’s chin. “She is.”

Miracle is right.

\--- 

He ends up calling her _Chudo_ , because Jessica tells him that’s what miracle is in Russian. It’s actually a little bit more complicated than that, but Chudo is what it sounds like to him, so Chudo it is. It also turns out that Chudo is a mix, though she definitely has some Alaskan Malamute in her, though why anybody would want to turf her out onto the street is anyone’s guess.

The U.S loses in the bronze medal game, and Patrick’s pretty angry all the way through the rest of the evening. Even Jessica and his mom can’t make it better, but as he’s thumbing through his phone, he gets a text message from Jonny. 

_Sucks :(_

Which, yeah, it does, and Patrick flops onto his front. Callahan’s sulking somewhere, which is great, because it means Patrick can sulk in his room without having to entertain anybody. His mom and Jessica left him alone an hour or so ago, because Jessica claimed his sadness was contagious. _Whatever. Now you really have to win. For North America, I guess._

_Canada is part of North America now, huh?_

Patrick smiles despite himself, even though it’s not enough to cheer him up completely. He knows what will, though, and doesn’t know why he says _Wanna come and see my dog?_ to Jonny. 

It takes three texts and a phone call from Jonny to tell him that no, now was not a good time to turn up at a vets and ask for Patrick’s dog and _why_ he was getting a dog in the first place. 

Jonny obviously isn’t paying any attention to the news around Sochi, and probably deliberately ignored the tweets and messages about Backes and some other guys on the team adopting dogs. Adopting a Sochi stray is totally a thing Patrick wants to do, because Chudo had been sad and sick looking, but she’s perfect and she’s his and _fuck off to your hockey game, you asshole._

\--- 

In the morning, Patrick can appreciate that he probably shouldn’t have replied to Jonny while he was depressed and drinking the shitty wine in his mini fridge. Callahan had taken all of the hard liquor out when they’d first arrived, and Patrick still didn’t know why, but whatever, he’s always been a lightweight for wine - embarrassing, but true.

He doesn’t interrupt Jonny - the guy’s probably sequestered himself in his hotel bathroom, demanding he win on pure will. Instead, he convinces Jessica to come with him to the vets. She agrees readily, and he’s pretty happy to be spending time with her. He misses them when he’s in Chicago and they’re in Buffalo, but it’s just the way shit has to be, he supposes. 

As soon as they’re in the cab on the way to the vets, Jessica rests her head on his shoulder. “I text Erica and Jack about your feelings dog.”

“She is not my _feelings dog_ ,” Patrick protests, twisting to give her a look. 

Smiling up at him sweetly, Jessica taps his thigh. “Of course not, Patrick.”

“Worst sister ever.” Patrick’s tone lacks heat, and he curls his fingers with hers. He’s trying hard not to think about the ending of the olympics, and Chudo is the perfect distraction. 

Chudo is ready and waiting when they get to the vets, wagging her tail when Patrick bends to pick her up. She doesn’t look as bad as she did when he found her, and at least know he can tell she has a shape. 

“So I can take her?”

Once he’s assured that she’s been vaccinated and has all the papers he needs to fly her back to the States, he pretty much runs out of the surgery. He’s so done with Sochi, and just wants to get back home and forget they ever happened. Unfortunately, Jessica has other ideas. She practically snatches Chudo out of his arms and gives him a look. “You have a game to watch.”

“The fuck I do,” Patrick says. There’s no way he’s going to watch a game he’s not a part of. 

Jessica glares at him. “Jonny’s been supporting you for years, the least you could do is the same for him.”

Patrick opens his mouth to retort, but he’s been battling his sisters for years and knows he’s not going to win this one. “I’m going under protest.”

“I know.” Jessica kisses his cheek, but it’s the consolation lick from Chudo that makes him roll his eyes and smile.

\--- 

Patrick’s not sure what he’s expecting when he takes a seat in the stands. He knows there are going to be tweets and posts about this on the internet, but he’s doing this as a favour to his sister. And his feelings dog. Not that she _is_ a feelings dog. Having to sit through this game is going to be the worst thing he’s ever done, especially when it could have been his team down there, playing for gold, but he can grudgingly admit that Jessica is right about this.

That doesn’t mean he’s going to start wearing Canadian shit, however, so he wears his own jacket and sinks down in his seat. 

It’s kind of worth it for the way Jonny does a double-take when he comes out onto the ice and sees Patrick in the stands. Patrick kind of hopes he’s smiling, but it’s not like he can see from where he’s sitting. 

Jonny lets him know by text, when he’s climbing into bed that night. There had been some cajoling and money passing hands to convince the staff that they should let him have Chudo in his room, so she’s currently bundled up in a make-shift bed of blankets and and old basket, peering over the top at him. _You came to the game_.

_Well spotted, Captain Obvious._ Patrick kind of wants to turn his phone off and sleep forever, but either Jonny’s not overly concerned with celebrating with his teammates, or there’s a lull, because he texts back almost immediately. 

_Why?_

There are a hundred things Patrick could say to that, but he decides the truth would probably be good here. _You’re still my Captain, dude._

It’s a little more than he wanted to say, but it’s out there now, and Jonny’s reading it and probably being weird, but it’s not like Patrick can take it back. There’s a long pause before Jonny texts him again, and Patrick’s expecting a gushing text, or even a _shut up, Patrick,_ but what he gets instead is kind of startling. 

_Can I come and see your feelings dog?_

_She’s not a feelings dog!_ Patrick scowls down at his phone, and he’s typing out an angry reply, when there’s a knock at the door. What the fuck, who the hell would be knocking at ass o’clock in the morning. 

Chudo perks up at the knock, but she doesn’t bark. Patrick thinks that’s a good thing, but he’s climbing out of bed anyway. Chudo’s immediately on his heel, peering around his leg when he yanks open the door. Jonny’s standing on the other side, looking distressingly sober, his silver medal hanging wonky around his neck. 

“Hey,” Jonny says, and pitches forward to wrap Patrick in a hug. 

“Uh-” Patrick’s really not sure what to do, but he knows hugs, so he puts his arms around Jonny’s shoulders. “Not that I’m not grateful, but what was that for?”

Jonny pulls away. His cheeks are red, and he looks oddly defiant as he says, “No reason.”

It’s bullshit, but Patrick lets it go, instead reaching down to pick up Chudo. “So. This is my dog.”

It’s the perfect distraction; Jonny looks at Chudo for a long while, almost like he’s sizing her up, which is stupid because she’s a puppy and she’s Patrick’s and he’s not going to let Jonny start forcing her to be better at being a dog, or whatever he’s secretly planning. Chudo’s tail is thumping against Patrick’s chest and he’s she’s wiggling, so she obviously likes Jonny. 

Patrick relaxes a little. He didn’t realise he’d been so worried about Jonny not liking Chudo, or vice versa, until now. Jonny scratches at Chudo’s head and she whines happily, tongue lolling out.

“What did you call her?” Jonny asks. He has a soft look on his face that Patrick’s seen only a couple of times before, and he’s not quite sure what to make of it. 

“Chudo.”

Jonny gives him a searching look. “I suppose that has a meaning?”

Patrick nods, scratching Chudo under the chin. She’s in heaven, eyes closed and body wriggling at the attention, and Patrick knows his own smile is probably as soft as Jonny’s. “It means miracle in Russian.”

There’s a pause, and then Jonny nods, pleased. “That’s good.”

Patrick peers around Jonny into the hallway and frowns. “So, you want to come in?”

“Uh,” Jonny looks startled, not quite sure of himself. “If that’s-”

“Moron,” Patrick says, affectionately, and steps back to let Jonny into the room. Things might have been weird with the olympics and losing and all the shit in between, but he and Jonny haven’t changed. They’re easy, have always been easy.

\--- 

Patrick discovers that it’s not as easy to part with Chudo at the airport.

She whines and cries so much that he has to wait before they can take her crate. He bends down, kissing her head and scratching her a few times. She’s got food and water in with her, and while he’s sure the flight won’t be great for her, it’s the only option he has to get her home. 

“I promise we’ll be in Chicago soon, and then you’ll be fine.” It’s an empty promise, he knows, because she’s flying back to Buffalo with his mom and Jessica, and then when he’s done playing in New York, he’ll collect her and bring her back with him to Chicago. It’s a long, convoluted mess, but he still has hockey to play, and he’s not about to give that up, even for Chudo. 

Thankfully, once they have New York out of the way, they’re back home in Chicago and Patrick has time to settle Chudo in and get everything sorted. For now, though, he has to get her into the plane and on her way, not that he knows how he’s actually supposed to manage that. She’s still clinging, licking his cheek and whining. 

“Hey, Patrick-” Jonny strolls up behind him, bag on his shoulder and airline ticket in his hand. He exchanges a hello with Jessica and Patrick’s mom, and then stares down at Chudo. “What’s up?”

“Obviously she doesn’t want to fly,” Patrick tells him, a little short. Jonny doesn’t seem phased by it. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jonny frowns. “You just have to make her do it, Kaner. It’s not like she can ride in the cabin.”

“Tough love,” his mom agrees, with the look of someone who’s utilised it in her life. Patrick is proof of that. He sighs, looking down at Chudo. 

“Sorry, girl, but I promise it won’t be for long.” Chudo struggles as he puts her back in the crate, but he does it, feeling like a tool the whole time. She’s his dog and she’s unhappy and he hates it. Thankfully, Jonny’s there. He pats Patrick on the shoulder and squeezes. 

Chudo’s crate is taken away to be loaded onto the plane, and Patrick watches her go, hating every second of it.

\--- 

He doesn’t see Chudo again until they’re done with the Rangers.

There’s the Stadium Series game against the Pens, but until then, he can settle into his condo with Chudo. She’s back in her crate for the plane ride home to Chicago, but at least this time it’s on the team charter, and she’s only in the hold for a couple of hours. 

As soon as he gets to baggage claim, and she’s there waiting for him, he wants to open the crate. 

“You need to wait,” Jonny tells him, wheeling over one of the trolleys. Patrick always seems to manage to gt one with a wonky wheel, but as usual, Jonny’s managed to grab the perfect one. He loads Chudo’s crate and their bags onto the trolley and gestures towards the exit. “Come on, my car’s outside.”

“Dude, I can do that,” Patrick says, scowling even though Jonny’s being pretty awesome right now. “It’s my dog.”

Jonny gives him a weird look. “I know.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Patrick sighs. He’s not really sure what he’s feeling right now, still messed up from the stupid excuse for an olympics, but he starts walking, thankful that Jonny follows him instead of saying anything else. 

“Is she going to be alright in the car?”

Jonny frowns. “We could just leave her in the crate and stop off at Pets at Home or something.”

“We?” Patrick raises his eyebrows. It’s not like they could go their separate ways if they wanted - if Jonny wanted. Patrick kind of wants to be alone with Chudo, but Jonny’s obviously trying hard to make up for something, even though it’s not like Patrick’s going to hold the fact that Canada beat them against him personally. It’s not like he’s suddenly going to love the country or anything, but he’s pretty much okay with Jonny. 

“I can drop you off if you want to go by yourself?” Jonny looks like Patrick’s just threatened to throw Chudo into traffic.

He sighs. “No. Drive us to Pets At Home. It’s not like I have anything for a dog.”

Jonny’s grin is ridiculous and stupid and completely acceptable because it’s related to Chudo.

\--- 

Chudo explores Patrick’s condo with more enthusiasm than he showed when he bought the place. He and Jonny are loaded down with dog supplies, and there are more in Jonny’s car, but Patrick’s not exactly up for a second trip right now. They have the essentials, and he has food at least.

“You want take-out?” He offers, while Jonny’s battling with the dog bed. 

Patrick’s pretty sure that a) Chudo won’t use it much and b) she’ll outgrow it in a few months anyway, but Jonny’s determined to see it done, so Patrick lets him. He does nod, though, so Patrick pulls his phone from his pocket. He calls the nearest Thai place, because they’re Jonny’s favourite, and it’s not like Patrick’s said thank you yet. 

“There,” Jonny says proudly, pointing at the dog bed. His hair is stuck up all over the place and he had a smudge on his face that Patrick can’t even identify, but he’s grinning like he’s just erected a statue. 

Rolling his eyes, Patrick gives him a thumbs up. “Good job, buddy.”

Chudo chooses that moment to barrel into the living room, bouncing right up to Jonny and Patrick and yipping. She’s got gorgeous fur, all soft and inviting, and Patrick knows he could spend so much time cuddling with her. 

“She seems to like it,” Jonny says. 

Chudo’s sniffing around the dog bed, and after a thorough exploration, climbs in and curls up. Jonny looks even more proud now that the owner is pleased with his work, and Patrick snorts. There’s still shit to do - he needs to figure out exactly how to take care of a dog for a start, but he’s pretty chill at the moment. 

It’s not until they’re sitting on the couch, the TV on low and Chudo chewing on some stupid toy Jonny thought she’d like from the per store, and Thai cartons spread out on the coffee table, that Patrick nudges Jonny’s thigh with his foot. They’re both sprawled out against the length of it, Jonny sitting against the arm, and Patrick sitting sideways, his legs between them. “Thanks.”

Jonny shrugs. “It’s nothing.”

“Nah, man,” Patrick says. He keeps his eyes on the TV so that he doesn’t have to look Jonny in the eye. “I know you and mom were mocking me and shit for having a feelings dog, but you didn’t-”

“Hey,” Jonny says, talking over him. He grabs hold of Patrick’s ankle, his thumb resting against the bone. “You deal with however you deal with it, yeah?”

Patrick nods, swallowing. He’s not sure he can say how he feels about Sochi right now, but he came away with Chudo and his relationship with Jonny still intact, so he’s feeling pretty great. He’s not sure that will continue once he gets back into the locker room and the guys _meet_ Chudo instead of just mocking him. He’s kept himself to himself, even when they were in New York, and while it’s not the greatest to have Jonny fight in his corner again - telling everyone not to mention the bronze medal game, _god_ \- but he appreciates it. 

“It’s not like I didn’t think you could have done it,” Jonny says, his tone more insistent. 

Patrick doesn’t know why he keeps saying shit like that. “Dude, we’ve been playing together since we were kids, you don’t have to keep doing this shit.”

“What shit?” Jonny twists his beer bottle in his hands, brow furrowed. 

“Talking about how good I am to reporters and whatever. You’re always-”

“I’m telling the truth.” Jonny sounds confused, but he’s also adamant, and tightens his grip on Patrick’s ankle. It would be painful if it wasn’t grounding. “You’re a great hockey player, Patrick, and people are seeing it, and you were great in Sochi and everyone knows it.”

Patrick flushes, and shakes his head. “Yeah, but-”

“Hey,” Jonny says, leaning over to put his beer bottle on the table. 

“Let me fucking talk,” Patrick says, tired of being spoken over. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, jesus, you know I do. But it’s okay if I’m sad about it, you now? You don’t have to make everything better.”

Jonny’s quiet for a while, and then gives Patrick an open, searching look. “And if I do?”

Patrick stalls. “What?”

“Want to make everything better,” Jonny says. His eyes are oddly intense and Patrick swallows, feeling hot. He thinks he knows what’s going on, but he also doesn’t. It’s fucking confusing and it would be at this point that he would usually run, but Jonny’s got a grip on his ankle and Patrick doesn’t want to run. “If I want that.”

“You can’t,” Patrick says, matter-of-fact, but he licks his lips. Jonny’s face falls, but Patrick tugs his leg out of Jonny’s grip. swinging them back down to the floor. He closes the gap between them, hoping he hasn’t got this wrong, and that Jonny’s not going to suddenly freak out and leave him sitting here. “Though I’m not going to complain if you want to keep trying.”

Jonny opens his mouth, once, twice, and then his face breaks out into a grin. He’s such a _loser_ , and a giant dork, and so fucking easy to please once you know what makes him tick, and Patrick never wants to stop doing that, so he gets it. “Yeah?”

“Duh,” Patrick says. “Chudo likes you after all.”

As though in agreement, Chudo barks once, and Jonny laughs. “There’s a seal of approval if ever there was one.”

Patrick grins. “Damn straight.”

He’s still grinning at Chudo when Jonny tugs at his shirt, hauling him close. He stops there, though, giving Patrick the once over, like he doesn’t have every day to look at him. 

Patrick raises his eyebrows. “Well? Are you going to kiss me or what?”

Jonny does.

the end 


End file.
